


Linen and Ale

by AnneMayfair



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:58:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6343168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneMayfair/pseuds/AnneMayfair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian sometimes zones out. Sometimes, he daydreams. These days his daydreams are rather... naughty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Linen and Ale

**Author's Note:**

> I am sincerely sorry and I have no excuses other than that I was inspired and enabled by a friend of mine.

      His fingers intertwined with hers. Heat of their bodies was almost too much to bear, and the frantic movement threatened to end with trauma. Neither of them cared. The moment and the momentum simply carried them forward.

      "Sebastian," she called to him, catching her breath. " _Sebastian, please..._ "

      Her entangled hair seemed even darker against the white of linen. Sebastian pressed himself into her more, and a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. He couldn't help but to furrow his brows and grit his teeth as they moved. Such an early finish would be, if not awful, just impolite

      Hawke's body was soft and her skin was velvet. His open palms trailed across her thighs and torso, feeling the gentle curves. Sight of her, open and wanting, drove him crazy. Sebastian's hips moved vigorously, his shortened breath carrying the same rhythm.

      He felt her body shake underneath his, and he froze. He wanted to know everything was good, that this night brought exctatic satisfaction to both of them.

      "Is all right, my love?" He whispered to here in a low, dry voice. Feeling drops of sweat roll off his shoulders, he watched her closely.

      Hawke's hand lovingly stroked his cheek. Wet locks ran across her face, laid between the large breasts. She smiled at him and leaned forwards to kiss Sebastian on the lips.

     "Nothing is wrong," she told him as they parted. Her body was still shaking ever so slightly. Excitement, not discomfort, dictated that state. She kissed Sebastian again, and with playfulness she started to move her own hips.

      A lightning shot across Sebastian's back. For so long this pleasure was forgotten and forbidden that tasting it now was akin to sampling the finest cold wine in the middle of summer's heat. With almost a fear he drew back from her, his seed leaving her body, and sat on the bed sheets.

     His chest rose and fell down as he watched surprise grow on Hawke's face. His head refused to think, his mind was unable to tie words into sentences. His penis was pulsating with blood, and Sebastian knew he was almost at the top.

      "Did I scare you?" She asked, sitting up to look him in the face. Enchanted, Sebastian was taking in how her breasts changed form as she moved. Sweat glistened on her skin in the candlelight, and the expression on her face was so worried and dear, that Sebastian soon found himself fit to speak:

       "No, no, please," he tried. His swirl of a mind was hard to search for words. "Forgive me, _I_... I was... fast."

      Anna threw her hair over her left shoulder as she listened to Sebastian. Almost stuttering, licking his dry lips, he continued apologizing. How could he tell her he is burning with desire, that he is _dying_ from lust for her, but his body does not match his spirit?

      A wave of deep tickle-like sensation went from the tips of his toes all the way to the roots of his hair. Anna's hand took his penis and slightly squeezed it. A long breath escaped Sebastian's chest as he started to change his pose. He spread his legs more, leaning back slightly, and with almost childish excitement he saw Hawke mimic his movement in her own way. She sat close to him, one hand moving back and forth, her other palm pressed against his chest. One of his own hands dug into the linen for support, while another greedily grabbed Anna's hair to pull her in for a kiss.

      She breathed loudly and he couldn't breathe at all. Overwhelmed by emotions and feelings, Sebastian let his mind go blank. Hugging her, tasting her, the culmination was painfully close. This is the time when he awoke from yet another sinful dream, to find himself in his simple grey room, with nothing but a small symbol of Andraste on the wall...

      But the dream didn't end. With muffled growl and a slight bite on her lips, Sebastian felt the fire burn into ash within him. Anna slowed the movement on him, and their kiss ended. Her forehead pressed at the base of his neck as his seed kept flowing. Sebastian slid a few dark locks off her shoulder and covered it with small, short kisses. At first, he lost all his energy. But some moments later, it returned.

      " _Maker's breath, you are gorgeous_ ," he told her when she sat back up. "How could I ever doubt that we were meant to be?"

      "Maker has nothing to do with anything," Anna said softly. "You were just a little..."

      "Asshole?"

      "Stupid," she finished, looking him straight in the eye. "Listen to me, Sebastian. You were, and are, many things. And none of them I would describe as "asshole."

      She continued to speak, but Sebastian's mind was far too frail to comprehend. By the tone of her voice he knew that she was saying something soothing, something kind. But his whole and entire world was focused on Anna's hardened nipples. Succumbing to his desire once again, Sebastian first touched Anna's side, as if asking her permission.

      Seeing her flush and her expression, Sebastian continued. He cupped her heavy breasts with his palms, massaging them slightly, and then lowered his head to take one of them between his lips. She moaned and started to fall back, and he followed her until they found themselves in the same position with which they started.

      Her sweetness was overbearing. The smell of her filled his being. Sebastian's free hand crawled down and found wetness between her legs. He coyly looked up at Anna's face right before his fingers began to move. He saw her lips part and her head fall onto pillows as she couldn't control herself anymore.

      Something stirred inside Sebastian. Something was returning to him, like a half-forgotten memory. The movements he made were almost mechanic, and he switched them as he remembered and recalled. Hawke's thighs were shaking uncontrollably, her breath breaking off every now and then. The spot of her lower lips that was soft before now was tense and hard. Sebastian continued to play with her, teasing her. After all, her enjoyment will define his.

     He abruptly stopped, returning to her nipples entirely. He sucked i  her nipple, not losing sight of her face. She rolled her head to find him, and he saw a bittersweet expression of demand.

      "Why did you stop?" She inquired in a breathy voice.

      "Do you want me to continue?" Sebastian asked, making a short break between his kisses.

      "Yes! Maker, _yes_!" She exclaimed, shifting underneath him.

      "Then, what do you want me to do?"

     This sweet torture had only just begun, but he already could feel himself hardening. His heart raced much faster than it ever should, but he wanted an answer. And he wanted it to be specific.

      "I want you to sleep with me," she answered, biting her lower lip. Her hands trailed across Sebastian's back, holding up at his shoulder blades.

      "That is not what I asked," he lowered his face and licked the soft triangle between her breasts. "What do you want me to do?"

      Slowly, she was picking up on his game. Memories of her ramblings about being "not good at it" were still fresh in Sebastian's mind, but now he was ready to swear that she lied before.

      "I want you to lie with me," she expanded, swallowing loudly. "I want you to be with me like a husband is with a wife."

     Sebastian crawled up so his face was right above Hawke's. He stared into her eyes that now seemed darker than the night, admiring the dance of light from candles on her moist lips.

      "What do you want me to do?" He repeated, much quieter this time.

      "I want you to enter me," she replied, almost pleading. " _I want to feel you, I want to feel your love until I can no longer stay awake. I want to take your seed, and I want you to be mine._ "

     Sebastian did neither need another invitation, nor could he restrain himself much longer. He entered her, pressing into her warmth with his entire might, and both of them were lost in this madness. The air was soon filled with the indescribable aroma only lovers know. Grippling onto each other as tightly as they could, Sebastian felt Anna’s mouth trail around his right shoulder and neck, almost nibbling at his flesh. His breath quickened as he heard her moan his name over and over again.

      “Sebastian… Sebastian…”

 

      “ _ **Sebastian!"**_

      “Yes?” He almost dropped a piece of apple pudding he was holding. Suddenly all had faded – the darkness of the bedroom, the salty smell of love, and the silken sensation of sex.

      Of course, no sex was happening. Anna Hawke sat in front of him, fully clad in her armor, holding a tankard of ale. Her hair was tied in a bun, and for a brief moment Sebastian wished she would still wear them loose like she used to. The tavern around them sang. It was evening, and tables were filled with workers and traders. Merrill happily was looking through some journal they found earlier, while Aveline seemed to have left the company while Sebastian zoned out.

      His throat felt drier than a desert. Sebastian reached for his own tankard and sampled the contents. The ale got warm and he could taste the barley it was made with. The other sensations seemed to fade much slower. Especially the unspeakable ones.

      “Do you feel okay?” Hawke inquired, placing her tankard on the table. “You look like you’re burning.”

      “Really?” He tried to laugh. “I feel nothing! Maybe I simply am tired.”

      “No, but Hawke is right!” Merrill closed the journal, piercing him with her eyes. “You look feverish. Perhaps she should heal you a bit.”

      A fit of cough made Sebastian slam his elbow against the corner of the table. A jolt of pain finally got the remaining images out of his head.

      “And you’re coughing,” Merrill continued. Hawke looked at her, almost surprised. “I remember how I insisted I wasn’t sick. I spent three days lying in bed, vomiting.”

      “Merrill, you ate some ancient salted pork before that,” said Anna. “Sebastian, if you feel…”

      “I appreciate your concern, but I am fine,” Sebastian hoped that he sounded genuine. “You shall excuse me, for it is time I returned to the Chantry. It is time for the evening reading of the Chant.”

       “Of course,” nodded Hawke, interrupting Merrill’s oncoming remark. “But if you don’t want my help, ask any other Healer at the Gallows. I sincerely hope it’s just a cold.”

       Sebastian stood up, placing a few gold coins on the table. He bowed to the ladies, and saw himself out of the tavern. A brisk evening air cleansed his mind just a bit more.

      His vivid… imagination was getting worse as he spent more and more time with these people. They started as innocent tendencies, such as an admiration of Hawke’s nature, and ended with almost obsessive desire to be close to her now. If his dwellings with Hawke’s company were to continue, he’d have to make some intricate changes to his discipline. And he’d have to pray a whole lot more.

      With those thoughts, Sebastian walked to the Chantry, attempting to concentrate on canticles they’d be reading this week.

      Maker, he did a bad job of it.


End file.
